Pizza and Good Company
by Rebeccaseal
Summary: Rey's pizza delivery job gets more exciting when a certain Ben Solo orders at midnight, partly because every time she delivers to him he's wearing a little less clothing . . .


Her legs were failing her. Every breath was labored, and she knew reaching the end would expend all her energy. "Just a few more steps," Rey told herself.

As she crested the well-lit hill, she groaned. "Why are there _actual_ steps?" Several yards in front of her, a flight of stairs led to the front door of the ridiculously large mansion she was trying to deliver to at nearly midnight.

"I bet this guy has never even walked down his entire driveway," she grumbled. "It must be the length of a football field. And this house must cost more than Leonardo DiCaprio's net worth."

She arrived at the foot of the stairs and sighed. "Up you go, Rey," she muttered. At the top of the stairs was a large porch with a wooden swinging bench, a glass table, and some exotic looking plants. The large, glass French doors loomed imposingly, and even the doorbell was set in a gilded wood inlay.

Rey rang the doorbell and adjusted the pizza box braced against her hip. As she waited, she could hear the thumping of someone coming to the door.

The door swung open, and Rey glanced up. And stared.

The man who answered the door towered over her. His black T-shirt clung to his muscular body, and his black jeans hugged his hips and drew her eye to his long legs. His feet were bare. But his face and hair were what caught her attention. He had bold features and a sharp jaw, and his wavy black hair gave him a rugged appearance that made him look like a model or an actor.

Tearing her gaze away from him, Rey looked down at his order. "Ben Solo, right? Large Hawaiian pizza with extra cheese and cheesy breadsticks on the side?"

"Yes, that's me," the man replied, his voice low and gravelly. She shivered at it, wanting to hear more of it.

"And you paid online, correct?" she asked, looking back at his order.

"I did." Ben leaned against the doorway, and Rey couldn't help but watch the movement and the muscles that moved underneath his shirt.

"Um, okay, sir. Here's your pizza and your receipt. Have a good night." Heart pounding, she gave him her best customer service smile, her gaze lingering on his face and the dark eyes that seemed to stare right through her.

"Thank you, you too," he replied, after a pause. He closed the door, and Rey let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding.

She hurried back down the extremely long driveway and into her delivery car, only letting herself calm down once she was inside. "Wow," she sighed. She'd never had a customer that sexy, and suddenly she was glad her asshole manager had insisted she make this delivery late on a Tuesday night. Rey hoped he'd order pizza again.

He ordered again on Thursday, and Rey tried to ignore the anticipation she felt. Sure, he was better looking than every other man she'd laid eyes on, but it was sad to have nothing better to look forward to than seeing a customer, attractive or not. Then again, if he was paying her to see him she might as well take advantage of it.

When he opened the door, Rey wasn't ready to see him in a black silk pajama set that was very thin. So thin that she had to actively keep her gaze from straying below his torso. His hair and shirt looked rumpled, as if he'd just woken up from a nap.

"He–hello, sir," she got out, swallowing. "Ben Solo?"

"Hi." His voice was lower and raspier than before, and Rey swallowed.

"You, um, ordered a large pepperoni pizza with extra cheese?" Rey tore her gaze from him and studied the order. "And you paid online again?"

"Um," he ran his hand through his hair, messing it up adorably. "Sorry, I just took a nap. Could you repeat that?"

Rey hid a smile. "Yes, of course. A large pepperoni pizza with extra cheese, and you paid online, correct?"

"Yes, that's correct."

Rey handed him the pizza and his receipt. "Have a good night, sir," she added as she turned to leave.

"Wait, sorry, you delivered my pizza last time, too. What's your name?" Ben asked, making her pause.

"My name is Rey, sir," she said, amazed and happy he remembered her.

"Please, call me Ben," he told her. "Sorry, I was distracted last time, but let me give you a tip. I know midnight is a little late to order delivery." He reached into his pocket for his wallet and handed her a twenty-dollar bill.

Rey looked at the twenty then back up at him. "I — thank you, sir."

"Ben." He fixed his gaze on her, and she found herself unable to move.

"Ben," she forced out.

Ben frowned as he glanced past her. "Did you walk all the way up the hill?"

"Uh, yes," she squeaked.

"Next time drive up. It's such a long driveway and pretty steep, too."

"Thank you so much," she blurted, then flushed from embarrassment. Her breath caught in her throat as he gave her a small laugh.

"Of course. Goodnight." He closed the door before she could say anything else.

Rey stood there for a moment before remembering the twenty in her hand and the fact that she needed to get back to the restaurant.

Next Tuesday, she rolled right up to the bottom of the stairs in her delivery car. She practically leapt up the steps and was ready to greet Ben with a genuine, not-customer-service smile until she saw what he was wearing, which froze the smile on her face. He leaned against the doorway, nearly filling it up, in a black bathrobe open just enough that she could see that he _definitely_ had a six-pack. He wore black sweatpants and nothing on his feet, and his hair was wet and messy, which of course led her to imagine what he looked like in the shower. _That_ was an image she would not be able to get out of her head.

"You're awfully chipper today," he remarked, smirking in a way that made her insides twist.

She blushed a bit. "It's because I drove up here rather than climbing Mount Everest."

He laughed, and she wished she could play the sound on repeat. "It's pretty ridiculous, isn't it? But I suppose it matches the house."

Rey arched a brow. "But didn't _you_ choose the house?"

Ben laughed again. "No, my boss did. I'm here for a long term business deal. Let's just say his taste is . . . decadent."

Giggling, Rey checked his order and asked, "Large chicken pesto pizza with garlic and sausage and a side of fries? And you already paid?"

"That's correct," he replied. She had a hard time looking away from his rippling abs as he took the pizza and fries from her. "Sorry, I left my wallet upstairs. Would you like to come in while I get it?"

Rey blinked. "Um, I, uh, sure?"

"I'll be right back." Ben moved aside so she could enter and closed the door behind her.

She heard him walk away somewhere to the right and took in the excessively opulent house. It was modern, all glass, dark hardwood, and gold finishes, and it was certainly the largest house she'd ever been in. The front door opened to an open concept living room, dining room, and kitchen, and stairs off to the side led to the second floor. On the other side of the giant room was a wall of glass looking out to a huge pool and an oversized backyard.

Just as she'd finished taking it all in, Ben came back down the stairs, wallet in hand. "Sorry to make you wait."

"Your house is huge," Rey said before she could think better of it.

Again, his laugh made her all gooey inside. "It's really far too large for an old bachelor living alone. I've been thinking of getting a dog, but I don't know if I'm home often enough to take care of one. This is my dinner, in case you couldn't tell," he gestured to the pizza.

Rey practically melted. He was hot, single, and a dog person. And rich. He was literally perfect and way above her league. "You can't be that old," she blurted, cursing herself for her impulsiveness.

"No? How old do you think I am?" he asked with a dangerous grin.

"Um," she began. "Like, twenty-five?"

He chuckled and said, "More like thirty, but thanks for being nice." He walked over to the kitchen and she unconsciously followed him. "I'd offer you some wine, but you don't look old enough to drink."

Rey turned red as he opened the largest wine fridge she'd ever seen. "I'm not, but . . ." she trailed off.

"Is there something else you'd like, then?" Ben asked, setting the wine on the island. "Coffee? Tea? Water? The wine came with the house, so unfortunately, I don't have anything else."

"Oh, I should probably get going," she mumbled, suddenly self-conscious.

"Are you sure?"

"My manager is kind of an asshole, so . . ." She shuffled her feet, not looking at him.

Ben handed her another twenty. "Well, anyways, thanks for humoring me. Thursday, then." He winked, and she almost changed her mind.

"Thank you, Ben," she told him with all the sincerity she could muster.

For a moment, he simply looked at her, as if he were trying to figure her out. Then he smiled. "No problem. The pizza's pretty good."

He walked her to the door and held it open for her, watching as she got in her car. "Goodnight," he called.

She waved, knowing that she'd never leave if she said anything else, and drove down the long driveway. The next time she glanced in the rear view mirror, Ben had closed the door.

She took a deep breath. She'd chickened out, but there was no way a person like him would even be interested in her. He was the sort of person who mingled in elite circles and always flew first class. He had a black Porsche in his driveway and had given her twenty dollars as if it were two. She sighed. "At least I can look," she muttered. "Although, if he shows anymore skin than that, I might internally combust."

Thursday night, she'd steeled her nerves, determined to treat him only as a customer. Until he'd opened the door, that is, and her face flushed the color of her fire engine red uniform. He wore the same bathrobe and sweats combo, but the bathrobe wasn't tied, and she had a _very_ good view of his abs. She had to close her eyes for a second before speaking.

"Hello, um, Ben. You, um, ordered a large meat lovers' pizza?" Rey couldn't even look at him, because she knew if she did, her gaze would go directly to his chest.

"Yes, I did." She could hear the amusement in his voice, which made it so much worse. "Do you need some water, Rey? You're looking a little flushed."

He actually sounded concerned, but it would be far too dangerous for her to go inside. And yet she heard herself saying, "Water would be great." _Rey, what are you doing?_ she internally yelled at herself.

She couldn't turn back now, though, so she followed him inside with the pizza and watched as he poured her a glass of water. _Just leave quickly_, she told herself.

Ben traded his pizza for her water and leaned against the counter oh-so-casually, making his robe gape open even more.

Rey took a breath before drinking, not trusting herself to drink without choking. She didn't need to embarrass herself further.

Ben watched her drink, and she didn't know what else to do, so she kept drinking until it became ridiculous.

"Thank you," she managed, after downing nearly the entire glass.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked, taking the glass from her. His fingers brushed hers, making her jump and whack her wrist on the counter.

"Ow!" she cried, cradling her wrist and sinking to the floor, tears rushing to her eyes. _Ben must think I'm such a klutz._ As soon as the thought entered her head, the absurdity of the situation hit her, and she began laughing uncontrollably.

Ben knelt next to her, confusion and concern in his expression. "Rey! Are you okay?" He gently pried her wrist away from her body, turning it so he could see where she'd hit it.

That only made her laugh harder, and she couldn't tell whether she was laughing or crying anymore. "I — I don't know. Probably not. I mean, my wrist is, but I'm not — I'm not making any sense, am I?" Ben looked so confused that she burst out laughing again. "I'm fine, really," she assured him, calming down. "It's just a bruise. I'm probably tired from closing all week."

"Do you want some ice?" he asked, standing and walking to the fridge.

Rey stood, too, determined to show him she was mostly alright. "I'll be fine. You've probably got better things to do than babysit me." She rubbed her wrist, wishing his fingers were still on it.

"Are you sure? I really have nothing better to do, and if you're in pain, I'd rather you stay until you feel better." He walked back over to her, setting an ice pack wrapped in a towel on the counter. With a gentleness she never would have guessed him to possess, he lifted her wrist and examined it again. His touch, warm and soft, sent a shiver down her spine, silencing her.

"It's a little swollen," he remarked, rubbing a gentle thumb over the rapidly-forming bruise. Rey bit her lip, trying not to move in case he'd take his hands away. "Why don't you sit down for a bit with the ice? I have pizza if you're hungry. Well, obviously." He flushed a bit, drawing her eyes to his face, which strangely seemed a little hopeful. To her disappointment, he let go of her hands and got some plates from a cupboard. "You can sit anywhere. Would you like some pizza?"

"Yes, please," she said, finding her voice. Picking up the wrapped ice pack, Rey held her wrist to it and wandered over to a loveseat in front of a marble fireplace. She watched Ben as he put the pizza on plates, enjoying his abs and at the same wondering exactly what she was doing there.

He came over and sat next to her, which was much closer than she'd anticipated on the small couch. "I hope you like meat," he said, handing her the plate.

"Oh, yes, I do. Like meat." _Shut up, Rey_. She busied herself with the pizza until Ben spoke again.

"Do you always work late?"

"Um, not always, but I needed to pick up some extra shifts, so I closed Monday and Wednesday. I usually only close Tuesday and Thursday, but . . . I didn't have a choice." She couldn't quite meet his eye, suddenly feeling very out of her league. "I still have classes during the day, so there aren't many options for work hours."

"I see. So am I keeping you up late by ordering pizza at midnight?"

"No, I'd be at the restaurant if I weren't here. Honestly, I'm glad you order this late because it gives me something to look forward to." Rey flushed, not expecting to be that honest. It was true, though, that she'd begun to look forward to delivering his pizza more so than getting to go home. Nothing waited for her at home other than studying, anyway.

Ben seemed surprised at her candor, too, but he recovered well. "I'm glad you think so. In my case, it's doubly rewarding because I get pizza and good company."

She laughed, grateful that he'd steered the conversation away from her sad confession. "You can't beat that, can you?"

He grinned. "I mean, the pizza on its own is fine, but it's the entertainment that really makes it worthwhile."

Rey punched his arm lightly, then turned back to her pizza.

By the time they both finished eating, Rey needed to leave to close the restaurant.

"Thank you for the water, the pizza, and the ice," she told him sheepishly. "I'm not usually such a mess, I swear."

Ben chuckled and reached for his wallet. "It's more fun eating with someone than by myself, so you did me a favor."

"You don't have to tip me," she protested, putting a hand on his arm. "I'm pretty sure the customer isn't supposed to be serving the employee."

Ben raised an eyebrow. "One of us is a broke college student and the other is a businessman with a lot of disposable income. Just take it." He took her hand, put a twenty in it, and closed it over the bill.

"Thank you," she murmured.

Ben walked her to the door again and watched her get in her car.

"See you on Tuesday, Rey," he called as she climbed in.

"See you," she replied, closing the door. Her wrist only mildly ached now, and she really wished it was Tuesday already.

She'd spent the weekend thinking mostly about Ben and his hands on hers and his abs. She thought a lot about his abs. She dreamed about him, too; in her dreams, he leaned forward on the loveseat, stared deeply into her eyes with that smoldering gaze, and kissed her until she couldn't move. Though she knew he probably wasn't the least bit interested in her, she wanted to do something nice for him. Or at least, that's what she'd pass it off as if he didn't reciprocate her feelings. She was hoping he'd want to have dinner with her again, but she'd mentally prepared herself in case he didn't.

Tuesday, she drove up to his door in her beat-up Honda. She walked up the stairs with the pizza and found the door wide open.

"Ben?" she called, not seeing him in the doorway.

"Come in," he replied from somewhere she couldn't see.

She walked in, closing the door behind her, and turned to see him with his back to her in the kitchen. She almost dropped the pizza.

He wore low-slung gray sweatpants and nothing else. And the first thing that came out of her mouth was, "You're not wearing black."

He turned around and she watched a flush travel from his cheeks down his neck as he took her in. Rey felt some pride at that since she'd ditched her work uniform for a cute off-the-shoulder shirt and shorts.

"You're not wearing your uniform," he observed, crossing his arms. Rey was almost salivating at the way his muscles bulged.

"Well," Rey began, blushing. "I actually took the day off. I was wondering, um, if maybe you, um, wanted to, uh . . . ifmaybeyouwantedtohavedinner. With me," she clarified. "You've just been really nice to me, and I wanted to do something, and I figured you still needed dinner and I didn't have any way of contacting you to let you know I wasn't coming so I just decided to do this and you don't have to have dinner with me, I just maybe thought you'd be okay with it because of last time and —"

"Rey." His voice shut her up. When she gathered the courage to look him in the eye, she saw surprise and something that looked a lot like happiness.

"Yes?" she whispered, clutching the pizza box like it was her lifeline.

Ben smiled warmly. "I'd love to have dinner with you. Especially if I don't have to pay you to do it."

Rey smiled in relief and handed him the pizza box. "It's a deep dish with chicken, mushrooms, spinach, and lots of cheese on the house."

"Sounds great. I'll get some plates and utensils. We might want to eat at the table if it's deep dish." Ben gave her that insides-melting smile again as he set the pizza on the glass dining table, and she remembered he was shirtless as his arms flexed.

Rey sat down and opened the box, closing her eyes in bliss as the smell wafted towards her. When she heard a plate being set down in front of her, she opened her eyes and saw Ben gazing at her with such softness she asked, "Ben? Are you alright?"

He smiled and sat across from her. "It's been a while since I had dinner with anyone. Like a proper dinner, not an is-your-wrist-okay-here's-some-pizza dinner. Speaking of which, is your wrist okay?"

"Yeah, it's fine. It looks terrible, but it doesn't hurt." Rey showed him the spectacular purplish-brownish bruise the size of a golf ball just above the end of her ulna.

He grimaced sympathetically. "It does look nasty, but I'm glad you're okay."

She blushed, both enjoying his concern and wanting to shift his attention off her. "So what do you do for a living? You know what I do, obviously, but all you've said is that you're a businessman."

"It's quite boring, really. I'm a manager for a bank branch that just opened, hence the house. It's not the most rewarding, but the salary more than makes up for that." Ben began cutting a slice of the deep dish. "How much do you want? Is this good?"

"That's perfect," she responded, looking more at Ben's arm muscles flexing than at the pizza.

"What are you studying in school?" Ben asked, making her snap her eyes back to his face.

"Oh, I'm studying psychology. I'm not sure what I'll do with it once I graduate, though," she confessed, taking the slice from him. "But I know I have a couple years to figure it out."

Ben nodded sympathetically. "It may seem difficult to figure it out, but trying a lot of different things is the best way to figure it out. Personally, I think you'll be fine."

"Thanks, Ben," she replied with a soft smile. She took a bite of the deep dish and smiled wider. "The pizza's actually pretty good."

Ben laughed and took a bite himself. "Wow, you're right. I mean, the pizza isn't usually bad, but I'll admit I order it more for convenience than taste."

Still laughing a bit, Rey dove back into her pizza; she and Ben finished three-quarters of it, talking and laughing in between bites.

Rey found that Ben was easy to talk to, a good listener, and surprisingly funny. She also found that his lack of a shirt distracted her enough that she had to ask him to repeat himself a couple times.

By the time she and Ben finished, it was one o'clock. He yawned and stretched, drawing Rey's eyes to his chest and all the shifting muscles.

"— and talk?" Ben was looking at her expectantly.

Her eyes snapped back up to his face. "Sorry, what?"

"I said, do you want to stay a bit more and talk?" Ben chuckled a little, and Rey knew he'd caught her staring.

"Oh, um, sure." She flushed, standing up from the chair.

"Here, we can sit on the couch." Ben led her over to the loveseat, and Rey suddenly remembered her dream.

Both of them sat, and Ben gave her a mischievous grin. "You've been a little distracted tonight. Any reason in particular?"

She turned what must have been a spectacular shade of red. "You — uh, well, I don't know. I mean, you're not wearing a shirt," she mumbled.

He leaned back against the couch so she could see everything clearly. "Would you rather I put one on?" he asked with an annoyingly smug smile.

Rey could barely look at him. "You . . . don't have to. On my account, that is."

He leaned forward, and his arm brushed hers. "In all seriousness, though, I think we've been dancing around each other for long enough. Correct me if I'm wrong, but there seems to be some mutual attraction here."

Rey could only nod and wait for him to continue.

"I've had a lot of fun the past few nights, and I'd like to see where this goes." He leaned in closer until his face was inches from hers. "Can I kiss you?"

"Yes," she whispered, amazed that her dream had become reality.

Ben gazed at her intensely, then closed the gap and kissed her softly. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he drew her closer as they kissed. Rey intertwined her fingers with his hair, pulling him even closer. She felt dizzy, as if she'd just gotten off a rollercoaster, except she was still on it.

"Wait," she breathed, pushing him away. His heartbroken expression crushed her as they both panted. She swung a leg over his so she straddled him and cupped his face in her hands. "I just wanted to do this," she murmured, resuming the kiss. Taking advantage of the position, she ran her hands over his shoulders, down his chest, and over his abs, smiling when she heard him groan.

In response, Ben's hands glided over her shoulders and collarbone, then down her waist and up to the bottom of her breasts. She moaned subconsciously and slipped her tongue into his mouth.

"Rey, you're killing me," he growled, and she could feel him underneath her.

"That's a shame," she remarked, running her hands up his back. "I'd like to know where this goes, too, but I can't do that if you're dead." She kissed him again, tugging on his hair slightly. "I've been wanting to do this since you opened the door half-asleep," she confessed.

"Oh really? I've been wanting to do this," he kissed her neck, "since I noticed you checking me out the first night."

Rey blushed. "You saw that?"

"And the time after that, and the time after that, and don't think I didn't see you staring tonight, either." His smirk was almost unbearable, and Rey flushed.

"Sorry, I just — wait, did you plan this? Because every time you opened the door you were wearing less clothing," she accused, leaning back.

He laughed and replied, "I may have been trying to show off a bit. And I have to say, your reactions were pretty funny."

"No fair." She jokingly hit his stomach. "Although, I saw your face tonight. You turned red here, and here . . ." She traced a finger down his neck, and he closed his eyes at the sensation.

When he opened them, they were darker. "You can't blame me. Seeing you in this," he pulled at her shorts, "after seeing you in your work uniform — not that you don't look good in it — is completely different."

She smiled at the compliment. "I guess both of us feel the same way, then."

He ran a thumb over her bare shoulder. "I'd like to take you on a date. Preferably with no pizza. I can't have you thinking I only eat pizza."

Rey kissed him in response. "I'd like that. I have many talents other than pizza delivering."

"I'm sure you do. But tonight, do you just want to finish what we started?" He kissed her collarbone and slid a hand under the back of her shirt.

Rey sighed and rolled her hips against his, earning a groan from him. "Sounds good to me. Why don't you show me what all this muscle is for?"

Wrapping his arms around her waist, Ben told her, "Ready?" Without warning, he stood up, carrying her across the room to the stairs as she shrieked and squeezed his hips with her legs.

"Ben!" she cried, laughing and clutching at his shoulders.

He laughed, too, and practically raced up the stairs. "You wanted to know," he teased her.

She kissed him soundly as he lowered her onto a bed she'd been too distracted to notice was there. As she lay there gazing at him warmly, she murmured, "To think all this started because you work late and like pizza."

Ben caressed her cheek. "No, all this started because you work late, and I like you," he whispered.

Rey kissed him again, asking, "So if I delivered pizza to you on Thursday, what would you be wearing?"

He grinned. "Let me show you."


End file.
